


Pandora's Box

by gelbes_gilatier



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cut off from Earth, F/M, Fighting, Friends to Lovers, Guerilla Warfare, Het, Homecoming, Hurt/Comfort, Off-Screen Major Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Team, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelbes_gilatier/pseuds/gelbes_gilatier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlantis lost the fight against the replicators, and Earth  gave up on the city... and her crew. Two of the survivors are Laura  Cadman and Evan Lorne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shards Instead of Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Another move from LJ to AO3 (the stories are still at LJ, it's just another step to completion of my AO3 archive). I also tried to edit the fics since it's been a while and I noticed a couple things that really needed editing while rereading them. So... new and improved _Pandora's Box_!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atlantis lost the fight against the replicators, and Earth gave up on the city... and her crew. Two of the survivors are Laura Cadman and Evan Lorne.

** Shards Instead of Glass  **

_“Sieh dort, Marie, das leere Bett,_   
_Der Spiegel uns’rer großen Zeit._   
_Ab morgen gibt’s statt Glas nur Scherben._   
_Komm her und schenk uns noch mal ein,_   
_Den letzten Schluck vom letzten Wein,_   
_Marie, die Welt beginnt zu sterben.”_

_Hans Hartz, “Die weißen Tauben sind müde“_

This just isn’t how he’d pictured dying. Actually, he hadn’t pictured his death _at all_. Never. Came with the territory of being a soldier and being deployed to a base like Atlantis. But the Replicators had taken over Atlantis, only to be blasted to smithereens because Dr. Weir had managed to activate the self-destruct, at the cost of her life. 

Before giving the city up, she’d ordered everyone to abandon it, flee to the first planet they could gate to. The plan had been to contact the _Apollo_ or the _Daedalus_ from there but they’d never managed that because both ships had been destroyed… and suddenly he’d found himself stranded with a dozen Marines, some Airmen and a gaggle of civilians

There had been Radek Zelenka among them and Miko Kusanagi, Theresa Cole, Laura Cadman but now, after a year on the run, their group has dwindled down to six people. They lost Radek and three of the Marines when they’d tried to get away from a planet that had once been a Wraith stronghold but was now dominated by the Replicators. And then Captain Espinoza had sacrificed himself to make it possible for them to escape from some volcanic hellhole. Which had still cost another four lives in the retreat.

So many… and no sense in it, despite the desperate wish to stay alive in this galaxy that had seemed like home for a little while but was something else entirely when they didn’t have the safety of Atlantis anymore. That and the impossible hope that somehow, somewhere they’d find a way back home to the Milky Way.

But they never did until now and as it is, it looks very much like they never will. Right now, they’re trapped in an abandoned Genii bunker. They’d thought it was a perfect hide-out, at least for as long as the residual radiation wasn’t enough to seriously harm them but they hadn’t counted on the I’kkai, one of the mercenary units the Replicators had employed to purge the galaxy of the Wraith and everyone else they deemed a threat to the peace – _their_ definition of peace.

Miko Kusanagi, who they’d made their scout when she had surprised them all displaying amazing courage under fire and a prowess for stealth again and again, had snuck out a day ago and there she’d seen them advancing to their position. She had made it inside before they had spotted her but they’d probably known where to find them anyway. So now… all that’s left to decide is whether they’ll die outside or inside.

“You know,” he suddenly hears a voice beside him and looks up to see Cadman sitting down beside him, “what I really miss about home?”

He looks at her face and in the half dark of the flickering artificial light the rugged scar that runs diagonally across her face, only narrowly missing her left eye makes her look harder than she is. It also makes the lopsided grin appear almost like a sneer but he knows her well enough not to be put off by it. He sighs. “Chocolate?”

It makes her laugh – genuinely even, without a resigned edge – a little and give him a little punch in the shoulder. “No… C4.” Right. Of course she’d say that. They used up their last bit – a few packs they’d found in a weapons cache the Expedition had planted three years ago – weeks ago and since then they’re absolutely out of it. Cadman had tried to manufacture a substitute – several, actually – but oh no, this Marine can only be satisfied with the best of the best, as her added wistful sigh proves.

There are so many things he’d like to do now but in the end, he tries to play it cool, as he’d done ever since they’d gotten stranded and he’d somehow ended up as the leader of their group. “It doesn’t solve _all_ problems, you know.”

Her shoulder brushes against his as it moves with another wistful sigh. “No, it doesn’t.” Some more movement from beside him and then… “But maybe it’ll solve the one we’re having right now.” What the… He looks at her again and she waves around a pack of C4. How… “Cool, huh? I managed to save two packs from the last batch. For rainy days and all.”

Her eyes… her eyes are blazing and again it amazes him how she can still be herself after all they’ve been through. All of them have changed – grown harder, more cynical – and she has, too, of course but... the essence of her nature is still the same. Underneath the scars and the cropped hair and voice that’s become rough with all the shouting and barking orders there’s still good old Cadman. Still explosions happy, still brazen, still crazy. Still keeping their team together.

And because it always manages to cheer him up when she behaves like they were just on a mission and would get back to Atlantis in a few hours, safe and sound and without so much as a care as what they’d show on next movie night, he manages a little grin. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Come on, you know, you love me,” she says and grins again but this time he thinks he detected a flicker in her eyes… anxiousness or maybe that was just the light from above.

He sighs, trying to keep it good natured and light, even though the plan that starts forming in his head now that they have some more C4 leaves only one option in the end. “Don’t get cheeky, Lieutenant.”

That makes her snort. “Shouldn’t that be Captain now? I mean, come on, it’s been long enough, isn't it? And not even the promotion board could…”

“Laura.” It was just one word, uttered quietly, but it makes her shut up immediately. He’s very, _very_ sorry for that because he loves to hear her ramble on but he had to do it. Kind of like ripping off the band-aid. “Tell the others to get ready. We’ll do the excursion in twenty minutes.” He also wants to tell her that he expects her to lead them out… to do for them in the future what he used to do for them until now. But all of a sudden his throat feels dry and tight and it’s impossible to keep talking.

She’s silent for another moment, then nods. “Yes, sir.” Then she takes a deep breath, obviously struggling to get back into military demeanor, even if neither their uniforms nor their ranks bear any significance anymore. “How’s the plan?”

Another deep breath, and now it’s feeling like there’s a weight on his chest that nearly suffocates him. “I want you and Undhati to rig me a detonator for the C4 so I can… I can act as a distraction. Once I… neutralized the mercenaries, you lead the others out and make straight for the ‘Gate. Dial the first safe planet that comes to your mind.” She wants to open her mouth, to protest, no doubt, but his resolve is final. “That’s an order, Laura. Don’t look back. You hear me?”

She swallows and now there is no way that flicker in her eyes could be caused by the light. He feels so very sorry now to burden her with this but _someone_ has to make a sacrifice here and he’s tired of others making that sacrifice for him. It’s not that he’s suicidal… it’s just that he doesn’t want to send others to do what he can himself just as well. Everyone had sacrificed themselves out of their free will but that doesn’t make the guilt any easier to deal with and in the moment she’d shown him the C4 he’d known that today it was his turn.

For a short moment, it looks like she wants to object but then it seems to have registered with her that they might have enough to fabricate a detonation device for the C4 but that there’s no way in hell they could rig up a _remote_ detonator. Someone had to manually activate it and he can see the exact moment when the cruel logic of that fully unfolded in her mind. She swallows again, and then she fully throws him off his guard with saying, “Why you? Why _you_?”

“Laura, I…” Why is he justifying himself now? He doesn’t need to and she doesn’t have the right to _make_ him justify himself to her.

But that doesn’t quite interest her now. “No, I’m serious. This is not how it works. You don’t have the right to decide this all on your own. You’re no one’s superior anymore and you’re not allowed to… you can’t just go and…” Suddenly, he sees that Cadman _has_ changed, more and in a different way than he thought. What he sees now in her unguarded eyes is fear. Real fear, not just anxiety. Fear and stubbornness and hurt.

“What, do _you_ want to do it?” Oh crap. That was cruel and unnecessary but she wasn’t supposed to oppose him. She was supposed to comply with this and lead their remaining team into safety, so that they might keep up the chance of coming home some day. Because that’s all he wants for he, for _them_ : to be home and safe again, one day. And if he has to sacrifice himself so she… dammit, _they_ can survive long enough then so be it.

And yeah, of course that triggered her rebellious side. She jumps up. “Yes, maybe I do. And maybe I want to find a way how to do this without you having to blow yourself up. Maybe… maybe I just _don’t want you to die_.” That was stunning. The amount of fierceness in her voice when she just said that; it makes him get up – no easy feat, since ever since a lucky escape from a Replicator stronghold two months ago, his knee never was the same again – and try to say something but she’s on a roll now. “Maybe I’m just tired of seeing people I care about die and maybe I just want them to stop dying so I can keep on living. Maybe I want to get out of a messy situation with everyone alive for a change and maybe I want to…”

“Laura!” Because he can’t bear listening to her anymore – practically losing it right in front of him, after all those long months when she just soldiered on and even managed to make them all smile and laugh once in a while – he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards and embraces her as tight as he can. She keeps on murmuring and he’s pretty sure he’s hearing sobs so he crushes her even tighter to him, if that’s possible. “It’s okay,” he tries to tell her “it’s gonna be okay, Laura. You’re gonna make it. You’re all gonna make it. You’re gonna get home.”

Somehow she manages to make him loosen his embrace and glares at him. “But that’s the thing, Evan. It’s _not_ gonna be okay if _we_ make and _you_ don’t! I don’t want to make it if _you_ don’t make it. I don’t want to get home if _you_ don’t get home.”

What is she… why… “Look, Laura, someone needs to tell my family…”

Now she’s… she’s _hitting_ him. “I don’t want to tell your family, you idiot!” Right there, pummeling him with her fists. “Don’t you see it? I’m done with people sacrificing themselves and I sure as hell won’t tell your family anything about your heroic death _because you’re not gonna die today_. Or on any other day that we’re here in this Goddamn stupid crappy galaxy. You hear me? _You hear me_?” She tries to keep on pummeling him but he manages to catch her fists, as bewildered as he is by her tirade.

“Laura, please…” He tries to look her in the eye but she keeps avoiding his gaze and he’s wondering if she’d see him through the veil of tears anyway. By now, her whole face is glistening wet and it nearly kills him to see her like this. All he wants to do now is bend down, kiss it all away, make her forget about sacrifices and scars and guilt trips. But this is neither the time nor the place…

“No ‘Laura, please.’ Go ‘Laura please’ yourself. I’m done with this dying crap and I don’t care if you’re suicidal or a lunatic or whatever. I just… I want to you… I want…” And suddenly, he feels her lips on his, tasting of salt and desperation. Apparently, _Laura_ doesn’t care about the right time and place for kissing him. Not anymore, anyway.

Neither does he, all of a sudden. Giving up his hold on her hands, he moves to embrace her again, careful not to let go of her lips. She’s angry and she’s still torn between keeping on kissing him and slapping him. He can feel that in the way that she threads her hand into his hair at the back of his head and how his lips get caught by her teeth once or twice.

Oh God, no, he doesn’t want to leave her behind. He doesn’t want her to be alone. He wants to survive, and he wants to survive because of _her_ and because even of the _promise_ that _someday_ they could leave this all behind them and just be with each other.

But there’s still the bigger picture. There’s still the team survival to consider and the Catch-22 they’re still in and the mercenaries outside that are just _waiting_ for them to get out. He nearly has to tear himself away from her lips and when he manages it, he gasps, “Laura… the survival of the team…”

For a moment, she looks like she’d simply knock him out and do it all herself but the soldier in her wins the argument over her temperamental side. “Survival of the team means also _your_ survival, no argument about that.” Or maybe not. Good Lord in Heaven, she looks _magnificent_. Eyes blazing again, lips swollen, cheeks reddened… now the scar makes her look bold and brave. “I ain’t leaving this damn bunker as long as you don’t see that. Either we all die in here… or we make it out together.”

Yeah, and who is she to speak for the whole team? “Says who, huh?”

“The team. Did you really think I didn’t talk to them about this before coming to you?” What the… the sneaky _vixen_. “Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. It was plain to everyone how you’d react. And we’re _all_ tired of seeing friends die.”

How could he… how could he not see that one coming? How could he know so little of his team that it was possible for her to stage a rebellion? And how in hell is it possible for her to look so damn smug and so damn _good_ ; here in some long forgotten bunker with ugly artificial light and with her hair so short and that scar and the fear in her eyes that’s still there, mixed with a thousand other emotions… mixed with _hope_. Yeah, maybe it’s that what makes her so beautiful right now. That despite everything, she still has hope; something he thought he’d lost when Miko had told them about the I’kkai.

Damn. It shouldn’t be so easy for her to sway him. “Alright, fine. Twenty minutes, Laura.” She kisses him again, this time quick and not half as passionately as the last one but what makes this kiss so great is that she’s genuinely smiling again. A little too fast for his liking, she breaks the embrace and turns to leave but he feels the need to add something, “Just remember: either we die all in here or we get out of this together.”

She bends her head a little and gives him a little crooked smile. “Will do. But just for the record: I prefer option number two.”

As he watches her leave he takes another moment for himself. Yeah, of course he also prefers option number two but the important thing is that either way, he’ll be together with her. And right now, that’s enough to rekindle the fire of hope in him; the one that everyone needs to survive.

~*~

“Look there, Marie, the empty bed  
The mirror of our great times  
From tomorrow on there’ll be only shards instead of glass.  
Come over and pour us some  
The last drop of the last wine  
Marie, the world is about to die.”

Hans Hartz, “The White Doves Are Tired”

 

 

 


	2. Find Peace Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan Lorne and Laura Cadman might not have won the war... but maybe at least a battle?

**Find Peace Tonight**  

_“Ohne Dich schlaf ich heut Nacht nicht ein,  
Ohne Dich fahr ich heut Nacht nicht heim,   
Ohne Dich komm ich heut nicht zur Ruh   
Das, was ich will, bist Du.”_ __  


_Münchner Freiheit, “Ohne Dich”_

Well, that was close. There had been so many things that could have gone wrong that he still can’t quite believe they’re here now. Laura could have timed the detonator wrong and it could have gone off too early or too late – he still can’t believe Dr. Undhati and she had been able to MacGyver a timed detonator out of their last digital wrist watch and what looked like a wire, a piece of scrap metal and bubble gum – or they could have miscalculated the number of I’kkai waiting for them or the I’kkai could have stationed a back-up team at the ‘Gate or the Replicators could have… but just for once nothing went wrong.

Well, okay, apart from Jorgensen suffering from a few second grade burns because he’d been a little too close to the explosion and Undhati busting her ankle when they were stumbling through the forest to the ‘Gate and his knee receiving another blow… However, the most important thing is that they all made it through and that they made it – through several jumps to misdirect any pursuers – to one the few planets where no one asks questions or takes notice of the faded pieces of Atlantis uniforms in their attire. 

A short laugh escapes him and he isn’t quite sure if it’s disbelieving or relieved. Laura had been right and he has no idea how she did it. They all made it through – Laura, him, Miko, Jorgensen, Dr. Cole, Dhati – even though the odds really hadn’t been in their favor. But then again, when were they ever these days? Questioning a successful extraction would be questioning their luck and he’s got a feeling he really shouldn’t do that if he doesn’t want to jinx it.

What he _should_ do now is lie down on his bed in front of the fire, curl up and sleep for as long as his traumatized mind lets him. It’s even a real one for a change because Dhati who used to be an engineer in the Sanitary Department on Atlantis turned out to be a frighteningly good pickpocket a while ago – additionally to being uncannily well versed with everything having to do with explosives – and this planet is full of people with their pockets full of money.

But someone needs to do the thinking, planning ahead of today… there was a reason why the team unanimously voted for giving him the single room and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t because he snores. And he wishes he could concentrate on doing some actual planning but when the adrenalin had finally dissipated a while ago, he had felt the strain of the day catching up with him. Body aching all over, knee swollen almost stiff again, a weariness that seems to seep through every crevice in his mind…

“What, still not in bed, Major?” God, how does she do that? And why does he _let_ her sneak up on him so often? 

He looks up to see her standing in his door frame, arms crossed, a mildly amused look on her face that not even the strange shadows that the flickering fire and the scar throw over her face can hide. “I could ask you the same, _Lieutenant_.” 

Now she rolls her eyes. “I thought we agreed that it should be _Captain_ by now?” 

That makes him snort and he can’t help saying, a little grumbling, “No, _you_ agreed on that. With yourself.” 

Instead of giving him something back, she walks in and closes the door. Then she walks over to him and sits down next to him on the bed. Suddenly, he becomes very aware of her presence and he realizes that deep down, he’d been waiting for her, ever since he’d gotten settled down here. Well, waiting for her but not really being sure what he should expect. Somehow, after the adrenalin rush had passed, somewhere deep inside of him doubts about that kiss from before the extraction had started to churn. Maybe she’d just done it to convince him and didn’t really mean it or maybe she had… 

Oh. What’s… what’s that look in her eyes? Like she wants to do something but doesn’t really… and suddenly, her lips are on his again, though not as hard as the last time she surprised him. In fact it, it’s kind of hesitating… questioning. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s any less enticing. After a second of surprise, he answers her question, tries to reassure her that it’s okay and that he actually _waited_ for her. The kiss lasts delightfully long but eventually she breaks it. He takes a deep breath. “Laura, I…”

“You did great today, Evan,” she softly interrupts him and he thinks he sees that look in her eyes again… the look of being afraid. Afraid of what, he wonders. 

But because he’s not quite sure if he isn't too tired for talking about them, he chooses to talk about the mission. “I beg to differ. If I’d been great, Dhati wouldn’t…” 

She rolls her eyes and interrupts him again, “Dhati’s _fine_ , Evan. Doc patched her and the Swedish Chef up.” That makes him smile, like every time she calls Jorgensen by the rather unoriginal nickname – after all, he _was_ a chef on Atlantis – they’d come up with a while ago, most of all because the man is Norwegian. She seems to have seen the smile and answers it and that does strange things to his weary heart and mind. “They’ll live. We’ll _all_ live. Thanks to you.” 

Well… nah, that’s not _fully_ correct. Credit where credit is due and all that. Also, he still feels like he has to stall because he still sees that strange look of being afraid in her eyes, even if it’s covered by warmth and mirth which makes him want to kiss her again… among other things. “Not _only_ to me. You can be proud of yourself.” 

She grins. “Thanks.” And then she takes a deep breath and the tensed look is back. “But I didn’t come here to hear you praise my C4 super powers. Well, not only.” Another brazen grin but not as openly as usual. 

Okay, no more stalling. He’s too tired for any more talking and he’d rather sleep than see her nervous – because _that_ ’s how she looks now – in his vicinity because the last thing he wants is to lose the easy comradeship with her because of one moment of apparently misguided passion. “Then why _did_ you come here?” 

At first, she doesn’t answer but then she seems to brave herself and says quietly, “Because I’m worried about you, Evan.” 

She… what? Why should she be worried about him? It’s not like she’d been worried about him ever bef… no… no, she had. She’d just never let him see it. Or _thought_ she hadn't. Because he does recognize that look on her face now. He remembers that he’s seen it on a lot of occasions. Every time, for example, he’d taken a blow; only a flash of a look and then it had been gone. And he also knows a variation that’s longer and more thoughtful, from nights at campfires in caves or the flickering neon lights of old hide out bunkers, for example. He never liked seeing that look because it meant… it meant she was burdening herself with that worry and he feels guilty for that. He tries to give her a reassuring grin and says, “Look, I’m not…” 

“And because I want to take care of you,” she interrupts him, _again_. Confused, he wants to ask her what she means by that but doesn’t get to do it because she’s kissing him, _again_. This time it’s a mixture of… tentative? Apprehensive? He isn't quite sure about that part of the mixture but the other one is _definitely_ hungry. Whoa. 

Responding eagerly, he cups the back of her head with one hand and pulls her close with the other arm. And deep inside of him, something stirs. The same something he’d been feeling for a while now whenever she smiled at him over a campfire or ended up behind a corner in the midst of a retreat with him, all flushed with excitement and adrenalin. A longing, profound and almost primal at times… to be with her, in every sense of the word and it makes him mutter, “That’s how you ‘take care’ of someone?” when breaking the kiss to move his attention from her lips to her throat and neck. 

However, she practically throws a bucket of cold water over him because she stills and even moves away from him for a few inches. “I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… if you don’t want to…” What the… He catches her eyes again and it _finally_ dawns on him that the anxiety he’d seen there had meant that she was afraid of being _rejected_ by him. Huh. And here he’d thought he knew her inside out by now but apparently, he doesn’t. Until now it never occurred to him that beneath all the bravado and the brazenness there’s a _timid_ and _anxious_ side to Laura Cadman. 

Apparently, stealing kisses and being cheeky had been okay but as soon as he showed only the smallest sign of rejection – even if it hadn't been _meant_ as such – all her bravery is gone. But why did she… right. Of course. She was… she is… _serious_ about this. About _him_. The longing he’d felt flares up again, this time a lot stronger than before and he decides it’s time she stops being the only one to initiate kisses. 

Not bothering with a verbal answer, he draws her towards him again and tells her with his lips what he can’t say with words; tries to tell her about the longing and the dread that always grips him when he hears her crying out with pain in combat and how happy it always makes him to see that she has made it through another battle and how proud he is of her; all that, he tries to tell her with just one kiss and is mortally afraid that he won’t manage to tell her at least half of it. 

He can feel her surprise and for a moment he’s afraid that he read her completely wrong but then he feels her relax and finally return the kiss. Finally, he can take up where he was interrupted before and hungrily starts trailing kisses from her lips over her jaw right down to her neck. She makes little sounds that are half contentment, half begging him for more and he’s happy to oblige her. In turn, she almost tears at his clothes, filling him with arousal just by tugging and pressing with her fingers. Lord, and those fingers aren’t even on his skin yet. 

Finding himself wanting to retaliate, he starts to do the same with her, being satisfied with hearing her breath audibly hitch when he manages to strip her jacket off and feels the surprisingly smooth, soft, warm skin of her bare shoulders under his rough calloused fingers. The feeling is so wonderful that it almost chokes him up. It speaks of all the things he thought he’d never see or do again: lazy evenings in the sun, happily wasting his time with painting, peaceful early Sunday mornings in bed, without another care in the world of what there might be for breakfast… _peace_. 

Oh God, he wants to keep that feeling and he wants her to feel the same… wants those moments with her… wants them so badly and he draws her on the bed with him, letting his fingers wander over every bit of exposed skin he can feel and she answers in the same way and… “ _Jesus_ fucking… _God_ … holy _crap_.” 

Dammit, dammit, _dammit_. Just when he’d wanted to pull his right leg on the bed to encase her with both his legs, he’d felt a sharp pain shoot up from his knee, making his eyes water and his stomach roll with nausea because of the agony it just caused him. Holy… and dammit, now all the passion is gone from Laura’s face and she’s leaning over him, an expression of worry and confusion on her face. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think of your knee and I…”  He wants to tell her that it’s fine and that it’s really not her fault but she’s on a roll now. “I guess I should come back la…” 

No. Fucking. Way. Despite the pain that’s still throbbing in his knee there’s something _else_ throbbing and like hell he’ll let her go now. So before she can move too far away he reaches up and pulls her head down to him again, growling, “Suggestion denied, Lieutenant.” 

For a moment, it works and she launches into the kiss with renewed vigor but it only lasts so long because after only a moment – or so it seems to him – she breaks the kiss and tries to be reasonable again. “No, look, you’re in pain and I…” 

Now he’s the one rolling his eyes and he can’t help growling again because dammit, it’s a safe house and they have a room to themselves and he likes to tell himself that they all survived this thing for a _reason_ and that reason was _not_ that he gets to be treated like an invalid because of some minor irritation. He smirks. “Guess we have to be careful then. Think you can manage that?” 

That… makes her smirk back and she has this brazen look again that the scar sometimes gives her and _God_ does he _want_ her right now. “Guess I can.” 

At that she sets out to be ‘careful’. And careful she is; almost cruelly so. Slow and tender, she moves her body and touches him, not leaving out any spots on his body where he’d felt pain or weariness creep up on him just moments ago, as if she has a sixth sense for that kind of thing. She even makes him forget about the acute pain in his knee that usually takes much too long for his likening to ebb away into a dull background ache in mere moments because… because she gives him sensations that are far more pleasant and far more overpowering.

He wishes… he wishes he could reciprocate and give her what he should give her – cover her in kisses, make her see how beautiful she is, how much he admires her and everything that’s her, from bruises and scrapes and scars to stunning velvet brown eyes and a gorgeous wide grin and those incredibly long legs – but as it is, all he can do is try and keep her close to him, not let her get away, touch her wherever he can without having to get on top of her and enjoy _her_ touching _him_.

And boy, does he do _that_. She’s… Jesus, she’s almost _torturing_ him, teasing him, pushing him forward… forward… what the… he groans. “I can’t believe you managed to find one of those.” 

She grins before she puts the item she just pulled out of her trousers’ pockets to good use. “Never underestimate a Marine’s resourcefulness.” Crap, he certainly never will again. Somehow she even manages to use something as practical as protection to drive him _insane_ with want and arousal. Want her… want her now… _oh thank God_ she finally takes pity on him and takes him in and… all he can think is _don’t let her go keep her with you make her stay make it last don’t let it end_ …

But it does end after what seems like an eternity and she lies down half on top of him. For another few delicious moments, she doesn’t even stir and he closes his eyes, tightens his embrace on her and takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent, feeling her skin against his, all over his body… and then she sighs a very deep sigh, like something deep inside of her settled finally down, was made _right_ … just like he now feels, on the verge of falling asleep. And for the first time in over a year… things are like they’re supposed to be. Maybe, he thinks before finally drifting off, there’s still hope for them after all.   
  


~*~

“Without you, I won’t fall asleep tonight  
Without you I won’t go home tonight  
Without you I won’t find peace tonight  
You’re what I want.”  
  
Münchner Freiheit, “Without You”


	3. What You Call Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan Lorne learns that a wounded team mate is one thing... but a wounded girlfriend quite another.

**What You Call Hell **

_„Ich habe keine Zeit zu bluten_   
_Und ich hab keinen Platz für Wunden_   
_Während ihr die Schmerzen sucht_   
_Hab ich Glück gefunden_   
_Ich bin ständig auf der Hut_   
_Und ich mache selten Pause_   
_Das, was ihr die Hölle nennt_   
_Nenn ich mein Zuhause.“_

_Olli Schulz & der Hund Marie, „Keine Zeit zu bluten“_

It was a bad idea. No, it was a _terribly stupid_ idea that will very likely end in horrible consequences. So horrible that he doesn’t even want to think about them. But then again, he shouldn’t do that anyway, being in the middle of combat and all that.

 “Evan, we need to get going. She won’t hold up much longer.” Dammit, he didn’t want to know that… but yeah, Doc’s just doing her job. No need to get into her face for telling him how bad her patient is. Even if it’s Laura.

So instead he just nods and signals Miko and Dhati to get ready for the final leg of their extraction from the building they had planned to infiltrate. The women get their weapons – a ragtag mixture of Pegasus weapons and good old P90s and Berettas – ready and by his side, Doc just finished slapping a bandage on the wound on Laura’s arm and patching her up as good as she can under fire and with very limited supplies.

Laura doesn’t say anything; just grits her teeth and looks like she just had had to choke back something dirty. Okay… okay, that’s a good thing, right? As long as she’s still conscious and pissed off enough that she has to bite back curses, she’s fine. It’s nothing, he tries to tell himself, nothing they haven’t gone through before. Except… except that the bandage Doc slapped on her arm just a few moments ago is starting to turn dark red again and that she’s growing paler beneath the grime and sweat of battle.

No, not the right moment to think about this. Not the right moment either for the strong urge to take Laura in his arms and shield her with his body and just make a dash for the ‘Gate because his team depends on him and because… because there’s no way he could carry her or run for only a few feet, considering that running _without_ any additional burden is somewhat of a challenge for him, even with the makeshift brace Doc fashioned for him a while ago.

The human allies of the Replicators they had originally planned to strategically wound guerrilla style with a surgical strike into the heart of one of their communication centers are advancing to their position and it’s really time they get out of the building. He looks at Doc again and she nods, looking grim but he decides that this is just because of their generally screwed up situation, not because of Laura’s condition. Another look at Laura… who just closes her eyes, takes a labored breath and nods as well.

Okay, fine… he gestures for Jorgenson who moves to take Laura up at his signal, then gets in position to give him cover for the extraction while Doc readies her Genii version of a side arm. So… one… two… three… “Go, go, go!”

Jorgenson takes up Laura and jumps up, running for his – and _her_ – dear life. Doc is next, then Miko, then Dhati and he takes six. It’s the one thing he never let them talk him out of; no matter how banged up he is, he’ll always be the first one in and the last one out. So he half-runs, half-limps behind the rest of the team, trying to dodge bullets from behind and give their pursuers some lead – or the Pegasus version of it anyway – to choke on.

One of the bullets grazes his arm but he doesn’t really notice it because all he can think of now is to keep up with the team, not slow them down and _get Laura to safety_. On first glance the wound hadn't looked particularly life-threatening but then Laura had almost collapsed and Doc had discovered another bullet lodged in her back, right in the middle of her right shoulder blade. It had looked messy and he’d suddenly first felt his heart miss a beat and then dread pool in his stomach, so heavy that it almost made him sick.

Of course they’d had other situations where things had looked messy – that scar on her face isn’t some kind of fancy beauty ornament, after all – but that had been before… _before_. Back then, he’d been able to tell himself that he was just feeling concerned for a team mate but now… now that they’re not _just_ team mates anymore it’s something completely different.

Now concern for Laura mingles openly with the fear for his own life and the responsibility for the team and he’s constantly afraid that this concern will hamper his ability to care about the whole team and be a leader instead of a lover. And… and goddammit was it really asked too much that at least _something_ about this raid would go _right_? At least their retreat could have gone off just a _bit_ better, seeing as retreating was practically all they’d done that past year.

But _no_ , they have to fight their way to the ‘Gate and if it hadn't been for Miko looking back – against his orders, yet again, must be Laura’s bad influence – he’d have been toast just a few moments ago. But because she’d seen him stumble over some rock, she’d turned around, rushed over to him and done her best to haul him up and drag him along, even though she’s shorter and more than a few pounds lighter than he is.

He’d really like to give her a few choice words for disobeying his orders but yeah, he really needs his breath for other things right now. Like, for example, making that last step through the ‘Gate that will hopefully bring them to relative safety. Just another step, just another…

Three jumps later, it starts to dawn on him that they might have a problem that can’t be solved with just a little wormhole hop to another planet because instead of simply running down the ‘Gate ramp, dialing the next planet and doing another jump, Doc uses her right to veto and orders them to take a break so that she can have a look at Laura again.

Following her gestures, Jorgenson sets Laura down beside the DHD and Doc starts to unravel the bandage around her arm. He can see that she tries to keep her face impassive but after a year of spending practically every minute with them, he knows every one of his people inside out – well, okay, not _completely_ , but mostly – and it’s pretty easy to see that Doc is _not_ happy with Laura’s condition.

Usually, she doesn’t like people hovering around and asking too many question but… but this is Laura and maybe she’ll understand if he does it now, seeing as everyone knows what’s going on anyway, even if Laura and he try to keep it down to a minimum when being around the others.

Making a point of _not_ looking at Dhati, Miko or Jorgenson, he walks over to where Doc is crouching in front of Laura but before he can even open his mouth, she looks up and silently gestures for him to come closer. Uh-oh. _Not_ good. Forcing himself to breathe normal and look his usual stoic self, he takes the last few steps and then takes the pain to get down where Doc is sitting. She takes a deep breath. “We can’t keep jumping around. I need to get her to a civilized planet _now_ or she’ll be in serious trouble.”

That would go against standard operating procedure and she knows it. Early on, they’d calculated that they needed a minimum of six jumps to make sure they really shook off their pursuers. But then again, it wouldn’t be the first time they went against that SOP and it wouldn’t even be the first time they could actually get away with it. They managed that before but the people they’d tried to attack today were fairly advanced and they probably already alarmed their Replicator allies… Laura stirs and opens her eyes.

“I… was in serious trouble… the moment… I signed up for the Marines,” she says and adds a weak grin. “I think… I think I can handle three more jumps.” Oh crap. Why did she have to do that? Why did she have to make a stupid joke and why did she have to grin and why did she have take away all his words and his breath with just that?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to actually say something because Doc is faster anyway. “Maybe, but _I_ don’t think you could handle it. And no, this is not the moment to doubt my compet…”

She never gets to finish her sentence, though, because suddenly a red laser beam cuts through the air and nearly slams full force into Dhati. Immediately, Dhati, Miko and Jorgenson duck for cover and he moves to shield both Doc and Laura from whoever just attacked them.

He reaches up to dial the DHD but another laser beam zooms past, this time much too close for comfort to _him_ and there’s also a volley of bullets that miss them only by inches. _Dammit_. Last time they checked this planet was uninhabited. No one was supposed to be here. No Replicators, no human allies, no mercs… wait. Maybe… maybe they were lucky, just for once. Yeah, it’s worth a tr… “Go back to where you came from, whoever you are.”

Holy… was that a _Texas_ twang he just heard? He turns around to Doc and she smirks. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with that thought. And then she surprises him. “Shut the hell up, Bunny, and get your lazy hillbilly ass over here. I’ve got work for you.” What the… and then he remembers the male nurse everyone called Bunny for some reason no one ever explained to him and… and he can’t believe they managed find another group of survivors, after an _entire goddamn year_.

“Dr. _Cole_?” Apparently, Bunny can’t believe it either. But at least his professional reflexes – or maybe his respect for Doc – seem to be intact enough that he doesn’t launch into a long time no see conversation first but jumps up to come running over to them. Only to be followed by… _Ronon_?

For a moment, seeing the big guy perplexes him enough that he just stays where he is and actually _stares_. Then Ronon seems to have noticed him and looks almost equally surprised. “Lorne? That you?”

He just nods and tries to get up at least half-dignified. When it doesn’t really work, Ronon simply extends a hand to him and does him the favor of not even raising an eyebrow to inquire where his agility went to in the last year. Then Ronon’s gaze falls on Laura and he even goes as far as frowning. “Is that…”

“Lieutenant Cadman, yes. And she needs _immediate_ medical attention, Ronon.” Dammit, Doc really isn't happy about Laura’s condition and that makes _him_ almost reach out for the DHD to steady himself.

By now, the rest of his team left their cover as well and two more former members of Atlantis’ crew – Davidson, one of the guys of the control room gang and a Marine Sergeant going by the name of Meyers – left the hiding place they’d used for cover when they were firing on them. Ronon takes another look at Laura and then simply nods and takes out something that looks like a… radio? Wow. Whoever is leading Ronon’s group… “Sheppard, this is Ronon. We’re bringing guests. Tell Jennifer to get prepped for an emergency patient.”

Holy _crap_. They actually managed to stumble over _Colonel Sheppard’s_ group? And Jennifer wouldn’t be Jennifer _Keller_ , right? The whole thing hits him so hard that he doesn’t even get the rest of the short conversation between Ronon and Sheppard. Still a little bewildered he watches Ronon picking up Laura and leading the little trek back to wherever his group has their hide out in the forest surrounding the ‘Gate.

On the way to wherever Sheppard’s camp is, he manages to exchange glances with his team mates and thank God they look as confounded as he feels. Then they reach a clearing that looks absolutely empty and Ronon suddenly disappears. What the… “Cloaking technology, sir,” a voice helpfully supplies and he looks to his right side to see Sergeant Meyers giving him a reassuring nod, and adding, with a strange undertone, “Farewell gift from Dr. McKay, sir.”

Right… no, he doesn’t want to ponder what exactly that means now. So he just follows Meyers when he takes a few more steps into the clearing and suddenly he’s in the middle of busyness. People walking around or sitting on tables, working on weapons, stirring pots over a campfire… “Meyers, Bunny, medical tent. _ASAP_. And someone bring me some of that moonshine LaCroix was trying to botch together.”

What the… oh, hey, if that isn't Jennifer Keller that just came out of one the tents in the middle of the camp. However, if it hadn't been for the messy blond ponytail and her voice he might never have recognized her, what with the _attitude_ and everything. “Dammit, Ronon! You can’t just dump a patient on my table and… oh, Major Lorne.” For just a short moment, the Jennifer Keller he used to know shows in the surprise and relief in her eyes but then it’s gone and she just looks so _different_ again.

Still, he wants to answer her, at least smile or something like that but something – probably a mix of overwhelming concern for Laura, fatigue setting in, confusion increasing and a million other things – keeps him from it. And apparently, she’s not interested in chit-chat anyway. “You’re with me. We’re out of sedatives and I need to remove two bullets from Cadman’s body. I need every help I can get.”

She didn’t… just recruit him for surgery, right? Because he’s really not sure if he can stomach _that_. He’s not squeamish but the thought of having to be there and see Laura suffering even more makes him downright sick. But Keller doesn’t even wait for his answer, just starts walking back to the tent, like she expects him to follow her.

For a moment, he contemplates simply not doing it but has a feeling that this version of Dr. Keller won’t take no for an answer and anyway, he couldn’t keep his team from executing that raid, so it’s partly _his_ fault that Laura’s lying on a table in a tent, about to get surgery with no anesthesia whatsoever and he owes it to her that he’s at least there for her.

Gritting his teeth, he finally starts limping up to Keller, determined to keep believing that she and Doc will be able to save Laura, no matter how primitive the circumstances. Once upon a time, those doctors were part of a team that was probably the best in two galaxies and that should count for _something_ , shouldn’t it?

 ~*~

“I don’t have time for bleeding  
And I don’t have room for wounds  
While you’re looking for pain  
I found happiness  
I’m always on guard  
And I seldom take a break  
What you call hell  
I call my home.”

Olli Schulz & der Hund Marie, “No Time for Bleeding"


	4. It's Never Like That in Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the raid that went down the drain, Evan Lorne had hoped for a reprieve... but maybe the problems for Evan and Laura are just beginning?

**It’s Never Like That In Reality **

_„Warum kann's nicht perfekt sein_   
_so wie in einem Liebeslied_   
_Oder so wie im Film sein_   
_wo der Boy vor dem Mädchen kniet_   
_und ihre Hand nimmt_   
_und ihr ganz tief in die Augen blickt_   
_Einfach alles stimmt_   
_nichts an dem wirkt ungeschickt_   
_Kerzen brennen und Champagner steht bereit_   
_Doch so ist es niemals in Wirklichkeit.“_

_Die Ärzte, „Perfekt“_

She’s over there. He really just needs to get up, limp a few steps, push back the tent’s flap and he’d be standing in front of her hopefully sleeping form, exhausted after several hours of surgery more or less conscious for the whole time… but something keeps him on his seat a little off the main ring around the campfire and he’d be lying to himself if he said it was just the knee.

And so he keeps alternately staring at the fire, the tent and the ground, trying to get his mind off everything that happened today. It’s not easy, though, because… because it was almost too much, even for someone like him who had to get accustomed to a _lot_ of things happening in the relatively small space of a day. There was a raid gone wrong, a retreat _almost_ gone wrong, Laura getting wounded and seeing people again he never thought he would ever see again and _not_ seeing some people again.

Well, that and having to assist Keller and Doc in operating on a half-conscious Laura. God, he wishes he could get _that_ out of his mind. But he probably never will. He has a feeling he will always remember the way she couldn’t keep silent and still because she’d been too far gone to have her usual grip on herself, because he’d been the one having to restrain her.

They’d tried to remove the bullets simultaneously – Keller working on one spot, Doc on the other – with Laura lying on her stomach but she’d been too uncooperative and he couldn’t bear having to pin her down forcefully so he’d ignored the doctors’ protests and had put Laura back in a sitting position, straddling the table and had moved to do the same, opposite to her.

That had made it possible for him to embrace her, and she instantly moved her healthy arm around him for extra support. Operating had been a little tougher for the doctors but at least he could hold her and try to make up for the pain she was enduring by soothing her with whispering every comforting phrase he ever heard to her.

He doesn’t remember much of it but what he _does_ remember is that afterwards he’d accepted the bottle of moonshine they had used both as a sedative and a disinfectant Keller had wordlessly put into his hands equally silent and simply taken a large swig, not even noticing just _how_ vile it tasted.

There’d been an instant effect of the alcohol on his system but not as much as he would have expected – and liked – and it did _nothing_ to quell all the doubts and the other repercussions that are bubbling to the surface of his mind now. Because the thing is… it feels like things are getting out of control.

When he started that _something_ with Laura, he’d been stupid enough not to count in the complications. In the beginning, he’d even been stupid enough to believe that it was something purely physical, that he could just go on like he used to but he’d realized pretty fast that he was just fooling himself. In fact, whatever he had with Laura was _far_ from being just physical – from _both_ sides.

Right from the beginning, more parts of him than just the lower regions of his body had been involved in this and it had been a big mistake to think that actually _acting_ on his feelings wouldn’t change anything. But the truth was that it changed _everything_. It changed the way he saw her and it changed the way she affected him – or rather how much he acknowledged those effects – and he’s pretty sure that it also changed how _he_ affects _Laura_.

And now he’s sitting here, feeling like the biggest idiot in two galaxies because he made the oldest and probably biggest mistake a soldier can make – fall in love with a fellow soldier… well, that and _act_ on it. Maybe there are a few good reasons why Earth rules don’t apply to them anymore anyway but there are also a few good reasons why they still should have kept them up.

It’s not even the danger of favoritism or that it changes team dynamics or that it impacts negatively on his competences as a leader – he’s clearheaded enough to see that today proved all of that wrong – that makes him feel like that. No, it’s the fact that his heart was torn to shreds today.

Yes, she’s alive and probably on her way to recovery but still, when he saw her getting hit and almost collapsing, he’d felt the first crack. And with every time her condition worsened, he had felt another piece of his heart torn away. Assisting with her surgery had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Fuck, he still feels her fingers dig into his back and tear at his jacket and the wetness on her cheeks that might have been sweat or tears or both and the way she jerked every time Doc or Keller struck a tender spot or a nerve – which was practically every time they did something to her.

Oh God, he should never have entered into this… it’ll only destroy them both because for some reason he just _knows_ she’d have reacted exactly the same had their roles been reversed. And the last thing he wants for her is to feel like he’s feeling now. She doesn’t deserve this and he should take his chance to spare her further heartache as long as he can. He should… “So… you and Cadman, huh?”

 _Jesus_ fucking Christ. Why do they all creep up on him like that? First Laura, now Sheppard… he really should work on the whole being on guard thing. At least he can still keep the jumpiness inside and appear more or less undisturbed on the outside. To keep up that impression he doesn’t even look at Sheppard when he answers rather tightlipped, “Yeah, Cadman and I.” And really, what more is there to say?

“Been going on for long?” Right, of course. He should have known Sheppard wouldn’t give it a rest after only one question. In fact, that probably was the overture to some interrogation but he’s just too tired for that. He doesn’t even want to know what or who tipped off the Colonel since the only conversation they’d had since Laura was out of surgery was about bringing each other up to speed on casualties, survivors and the general state of what’s left of the Atlantis Expedition.

He still doesn’t look at Sheppard when he supplies, “Just a couple of weeks, sir.”

At that, there’s nothing for quite a while until Sheppard says sounding a little miffed, “Then why _exactly_ are _you_ sitting _here_ when she’s in that tent over _there_?”

That’s a good question. A really, really good question. And hey, he can even try to answer it without losing face. “Keller said she needs some rest and space.” It’s not _exactly_ the truth but it’s close enough. Keller _had_ told him that Laura needed some rest but she hadn't told him explicitly to stay away from the tent – a rather rare occurrence, according to Sergeant Meyers.

However… Sheppard doesn’t do him the favor of giving it a rest. “Cadman… or _you_?” Dammit, when did the man become so perceptive? And so vocal? He never… no, that’s not true. Actually, Sheppard _had_ been taking care of his soldiers even back in Atlantis, subtly inquiring what was the matter when people had shown signs of stress or erratic behavior and taking matters into his hands to clear up whatever needed to be cleared up. In fact, it’s only logical he would try to do the same for his former second in command now.

So for a moment, he feels the strong urge to confide in Sheppard, about… about _everything_. About feeling like being worn thin, about needing so badly to lie back and unwind, about knowing he made a mistake with giving in to his feelings for Laura and still feeling unwilling and downright unable to undo the mistake and call it quits with her but he’d never been a talker and a year on the run hadn't exactly improved that. He takes a deep breath. “Sir, I would appreciate…”

“Look, Major… a lot of people might be gone.” It’s a tone he never thought he’d hear from Sheppard. Quiet and rough, telling a story all on its own. It’s a story of loss: Dr. Weir in the destruction of Atlantis, Rodney McKay in the defense of an improvised communication relay station he’d built to try and contact the Milky Way, Teyla in an attempt to help a group of resistance fighters – even though Ronon had told him that they didn’t actually _see_ her die. And it tells him that even though Sheppard might look the same on the outside, he’s different now as well.

He wants to say something, just _anything_ , tell the Colonel he isn't alone and that he knows _exactly_ how he feels but Sheppard doesn’t let him because he adds in a voice that’s a little stronger, “Don’t make the same mistake I made, Major.” What does he… “ _They_ might be gone… but _Cadman_ ’s still here.”

Another look towards the tent. The lights are still on there but everything had been quiet ever since they put her in there which he takes as a good sign. No news are good news and all that. For all he knows, she’s lying in there sleeping off exhaustion, pain and alcohol, or being a pain in the ass to anyone who’s in there, complaining about being absolutely fine and not having to lie around here, probably cracking a few stupid jokes… his heart starts aching again, this time with the desire to be there and see her doing whatever she’s doing now, see her _alive_ and knowing she’ll be safe, if only for tonight.

Flexing his hands, he nods. “Yes, sir… yes, she is.” _Now_ he’s looking at Sheppard and the Colonel just raises his eyebrows, as if to say “What the hell are you waiting for then?” Yeah, what _is_ he waiting for? He makes a face, and takes the pain to get up. Then he gives Sheppard an apologizing look. “Sir… I hope you don’t mind…” Rolling his eyes, Sheppard shakes his head. “Right. I… thank you, sir.”

“John.” Huh?

“Uh, beg pardon, sir?” Another rolling of his eyes.

“My first name. It’s John. You might want to try that next time we talk to each other.” Oh… oh, right. No Atlantis anymore… no _superiors_ anymore. Instead, they’re _equals_.

Being a little too overwhelmed with everything, he just gives Sheppard a tight smile to acknowledge what he just said and then starts walking over to the tent where they put Laura. He prepares himself for every eventuality that comes into his mind but when he finally _enters_ the damn tent, there’s a sight he _didn’t_ prepare himself for. Because, well, he never expected the rest of his team being there already.

There’s a moment of mutual surprise, until it’s Jorgenson of all people who simply says, “About time you got here, Lorne.” Wha… he takes a look at the rest of them – well, those who are awake because it looks like Doc passed out a while ago on the cot beside the one Laura’s who seems to be asleep as well – and finds them to mirror the sentiment Jorgenson just expressed.

He’s tempted to tell them to go to bed and not come back for the next ten hours so he can be alone with Laura and all the conflicting feelings and thoughts in his heart and mind but then he realizes they wouldn’t obey him anyway. And the way Dhati wordlessly vacates her place on the floor next to Laura’s head tells him that they don’t just _tolerate_ what’s going on between Laura and him. No, they _accept_ it, without reservations, even.

So instead of rebuffing Jorgenson for the rather brash comment, he simply nods, walks over and gingerly sits down where Dhati just left. For a moment, he leans against the crate in his back, closes his eyes and tries to make sense of everything that happened today for the umpteenth time but a slight rustle and a small, labored sigh from the cot beside him make all of that fade into insignificance. He opens his eyes and for the first time really looks at Laura.

She’s lying on her stomach, without any other cover than the blanket reaching up only to below her shoulder blades and thus exposing naked skin and white bandages. For a moment, he’s afraid that the sigh meant that he somehow woke her up but as it is, she seems to be still asleep. He knows he should leave her be but this isn't exactly sunny California and the tent offers only so much shelter from the chill outside so he carefully moves the blanket to fully cover her.

That… that prompts a very small subconscious smile to form on her pale and weary face and he can’t help but do something he hasn’t done ever before; kissing her in public. It’s only on the cheek and only very softly but still… no, no more brooding and doubting and self-reproaches.

She’s alive and his team’s alive and he’s alive and that’s all that counts for now and with that in his heart, he simply closes his eyes again and leans his head against the cot, just inches away from her face. At this… something feeling suspiciously like _peace_ is tiptoeing into his mind and even though he’d planned to be on vigil until she woke up… it makes him finally slip into blissful oblivion of dreamless sleep. 

~*~

“Why can’t it be perfect  
Like in a love song  
Or in a movie  
Where the boy kneels before the girl  
And takes her hand  
And looks her deep in the eyes  
And everything is alright  
Nothing feels awkward  
Candles are burning and the champagne is ready  
But it’s never like that in reality.”

Die Ärzte, “Perfect”


	5. Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's always light at the end of the tunnel... Evan Lorne and Laura Cadman are on their way home. Or what used to pass as home.

**Go Home **

_„Wo Du nicht bist, kann ich nicht sein._  
Ich möchte gar nichts andres ausprobieren.  
Wir sind wie alle andern, denn wir möchten heim.  
Es ist fast nie zu spät, das zu kapieren.“

_Heinz Rudolf Kunze, „Dein ist mein ganzes Herz“_

“I still don’t understand it. Why did he want to _stay_? Why did they _all_ want to stay?” she hears Miko’s voice from the mess hall she thought was deserted. But then again, it was probably foolish to assume that life on the _Phoenix_ would be different from life on the _Daedalus_ or any other ship she used to know. There’s always someone awake and always someone sitting around in the mess hall…

“They had their reasons, Miko.” Oh, that’s Evan… so _that_ ’s where he went to. Evil team leader that he is, he didn’t wake her up, even though she’d threatened him with a few not exactly pleasant things if he dared to do that.

She’s about to walk in and hit him over the head but the tone of his voice makes her hesitate because he sounded so _tired_. So, yeah, it’s been only a few hours since they left the planet they rendezvoused with the _Phoenix_ on after receiving their signal about two weeks ago but it worries her that in spite of relief and at least a bit of celebratory mood, all she can hear in Evan’s voice is exhaustion and a bit of irritation.

“But they’re going to _die_ there.” Miko, however, either didn’t hear the irritated edge or is in one of those rare stubborn moods where she seems to make up for her usual docile behavior with practically hacking her teeth into a subject.

Unfortunately, either one means Miko will get in serious trouble with Evan because _she_ knows he sure as hell doesn’t want to talk about the three people they left behind in the Pegasus galaxy – Sheppard, Ronon and Keller – now and maybe never at all. So, she better give him a hand here.

When she enters the mess hall, she sees Evan and Miko sitting at a table by the window, hyperspace streaming past behind them. Evan is sitting with his back to her but from his posture she can see that things aren’t going the way he’d like them to go and that he’d rather be somewhere else but Miko’s a friend after all, and one of those who _knows_. You don’t just walk away from people like that just because you don’t like the topic of the conversation.

He’s about to answer, she can see that even from behind, but now Miko spotted her and waves her over to the table. “Laura! Maybe _you_ can explain to me!”

Now Evan turns around as well. “You’re not supposed to be anywhere else than your bed, young lady.” Nonsense. It’s been two months since her emergency surgery and that’s really enough time that he stops being all big protector. Okay, so most of the time it still feels like the whole of her upper back is as hard as rock but that’s got a lot to do with the fact that she always had had a tendency for tensed back muscles and… ah, screw it. She’s fine, period.

“And _you_ were also supposed to be there, flyboy.” Did Miko just screw her nose in disgust? Nah, she must be imagining it. And she honestly had meant it in a totally non-sexual way because their first act on the _Phoenix_ had been getting a complete check-up and the docs had unanimously forbidden Evan to do anything else but sit around in bed and wait for the _Phoenix_ to arrive on Earth.

It had been a pretty fierce battle to convince the docs to let Evan stay in crew quarters rather than in the infirmary and the argument “You just said it yourself; my knee’s thoroughly fucked up. So what _more_ damage can a few steps to the crew quarters do, anyway?” had played a big part in that, so in the end they’d had no other choice than to let him go.

 _But_ there had been the condition that he stay there and let others take care of him. To reinforce this, they’d even taken away the crutches. She wonders what made him make the long trek to the mess hall since she’s pretty sure that it wasn’t just out of spite. He’s in too much pain for that, even with the first proper painkillers in over a year in his system.

As she sits down beside him, she can barely refrain from putting a soft kiss on his cheek and she can also see that he’d probably even tell her the reason for his middle of the night visit to the mess hall if they were alone. But as it is, she has to content herself with just leaning against him and rubbing his back tenderly for a moment.

It earns her a thankful little smile and he leans over to her, hopefully to… but Miko apparently really wants her question to be _answered_. “Please, Laura… explain to me why John and Jennifer didn’t want to come with us. I understand Ronon… but wouldn’t John and Jennifer want to go home? Doesn’t _everyone_ want to go home?”

Theoretically, _yes_. She does, and Evan does and Doc and Jorgensen of course wanted to go as well and Miko _definitely_ wants to go. However… she exchanges a look with Evan and she’s pretty sure that he has the same scene in his head that she does. It’s saying good-bye to Sheppard, Ronon and Keller a few hours ago and trying to make them come with them… all three of them. And she will always remember what Sheppard told them when she’d told him the same thing Miko just said – that he’d die in the Pegasus galaxy. He’d said… he’d said that he’d be dead in the Milky Way as well, even if he were still breathing.

At first, his open fatalism had shocked her but another look at him had made her realize why he’d said that. And it had told her that there was more behind his decision to stay in Pegasus than being convinced that Teyla was still out there and wanting to find her. In fact… in fact she’d realized that that had been just an excuse but a short exchanging of glances with Evan had made her abstain from pointing that out because they both knew better than to keep Sheppard from doing something he’d set his mind on.

Oh well, Miko’s still waiting for an answer. She sees that Evan wants to answer but it’s time she relieves him of this conversation because she can feel him tensing up and become _really_ irritated. “Look… sometimes… the definition of home… changes.”

At that, Miko looks like she has severe difficulties to understand that concept and is about to tell them again that she doesn’t understand it and that maybe Sheppard and Keller were controlled by an alien device or something but in the end she says, “How can Pegasus be _home_?”

Yeah, she’d probably wonder about that herself if she were Miko – the only one of them who never stopped talking about getting home as if it would happen just the next day – but as it is, the only thing _she_ found herself wondering about briefly before she quashed the thought had been how the _Milky Way_ could ever be home again.

She wants to answer again but this time Evan’s faster, sounding weary when he replies, “I don’t know, Miko. If I did, I wouldn’t be here.” God, she wishes she could just end this conversation and drag him back to their… no, wait, _his_ quarters because he sounds like he needs to sleep for at least ten hours.

And for a moment, it looks like she’d even get her wish because for a small eternity even Miko doesn’t say anything but then there’s a very timid and soft, “I hope… I hope they find Teyla. If they did… I think I could understand how Pegasus could be home.”

Well, that’s… a little surprising but she thinks that Miko finally understood what the whole staying thing had been about for Sheppard, at least in parts. As for Ronon and Keller… well, Ronon wouldn’t leave his home and his fellow team members and Keller wouldn’t leave _Ronon_ , even if she’d only ever seen hints of what was probably going on between the two of them.

Also, she’d had the feeling that this version of Keller – harder, less squeamish, less insecure… more cynical – would never be able to settle down in a normal Earth life again. And the old Jennifer that is bound to be somewhere beneath the new one also wouldn’t want to break her father’s heart all over again.

She’s about to say something in that direction but there’s a yawn from Miko and she gives them a sheepish look. “I… think it’s probably better if I try to sleep again. I’m sure I’m tired enough now.” And with that, she takes her leave, fast enough that they don’t get to ask her questions about what _that_ had been supposed to mean and she realizes that it won’t take long for Miko and she _will_ understand what drove Sheppard and Keller to stay.

When Miko’s gone she turns to Evan again, with her eyebrow raised. “So… any special reason you didn’t like being in bed with me anymore?”

It earns her a huffed, “You mean other than that we could both be court-martialed for it?”

 _Dammit_ . He just _had_ to go and say that, hadn't he? She’d tried _not_ to feel guilty for simply ignoring rules they’d broken anyway when they’d thought that the organization that had imposed them on them had basically given up on them and here he has to remind her. Just. Great. “Yeah, rub it in, why don’t you?”

Oh… oh, she hadn't meant to give it such a mean undertone, mostly because she _knows_ that he’d had difficulties with realizing that what they were doing was a _good_ thing. He’d never actually told her that but she isn't stupid and it’s not like _she_ hadn't had those doubts as well at first. And damn, she actually feels sorry because he looks like he… like he isn't unhappy that they’re breaking rules but that they’re suddenly expected to keep to those rules again. He rubs a hand over his face. “God, Laura, I’m sorry. It’s just that… you and I… I’m just…”

No, she thinks. She won’t let him launch into a lengthy explanation where he tries to justify himself and tries to justify rules he doesn’t want to follow himself anymore and where he tries to convince her of something he doesn’t believe in anyway.

Not now, when they should just be glad they can sleep in real beds again and eat half-decent food again and have advanced medical care for things as small as a splinter in the finger, if they need it. She even dares to take his hand when she tells him, “It’s okay, Evan. Sleeping in closed quarters makes me… uneasy as well.”

He shakes his head furiously but he doesn’t even try to take his hand away. “ _Laura_! You know exactly what I meant.”

Not denying anything, she nods. “Yes, I do.” But she also adds, “And we’ll get to that when we have to. Now, though… come on, you need your beauty sleep.”

Letting go of his hand, she gets up and after dark glare – probably for getting ordered around by her – he takes the pain to get up as well, not without saying, “As do you, Miss Dark Circles Under Your Eyes,” though.

She rolls her eyes and wraps her arm around his midriff, ignoring every attempt at protesting and when he finally sees that she certainly won’t let him walk back all on his own he leans on her. Slowly they make their way out of the mess hall and she can’t help saying, “You really do know how to charm a girl, huh?”

That… oh thank _God_. It prompts an actual grin from him that looks so much like the flyboy grins he used to flash back in Atlantis now and then and that had half the room swooning every time he did that it almost shocks her. “Yeah, well, what do you think they taught us at the Academy?” 

It only makes her snort but it elates her mood enough that she doesn’t even see the strange glances the people passing them in the corridors throw them… and it raises a very small hope inside of her that whatever they have here _will_ survive getting back to Earth and into lives they thought they’d never lead again.

~*~

“Where you aren’t, I can’t be either  
I don’t want to try anything else  
We’re like everyone else because we just want to go home  
It’s almost never too late to realize that.”

Heinz Rudolf Kunze, “Yours is my Heart”


	6. Better Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura Cadman, Evan Lorne and the question  "How do you pick up the threads of an old life?"

** Pandora’s Box: Better Times **

_„Wie lange sollen wir noch warten_   
_bis wieder bess're Zeiten starten?_   
_Wie viel Zeit soll noch vergeh'n_   
_bis wir uns wieder seh'n?“_

_Sportfreunde Stiller, „Wie lange sollen wir noch warten?“_

Somehow, she remembered Lake Michigan differently. Something changed about it and she can’t really pinpoint what exactly it is. Which is kind of ridiculous, seeing as she’s been here for over a month now. Ever since the _Phoenix_ arrived on Earth and they cleared up the initial things – another medical check-up, debriefings, psych evaluations, the rather pesky affair of having to tell over a dozen next of kin that oh, mh, the Air Force might have made a slight mistake here – and put her on leave until the last formal stuff was cleared up. And since she hadn’t known where to go, she’d gone home, to her parents.

In hindsight, that had been a less than stellar idea. Of course her parents and the rest of her family had been over the moon with seeing her back and at first, she’d simply let them celebrate and she’d let herself shamelessly enjoy things she’d had to do without for so long; a bathroom all to herself, sleeping as long as she wanted to – well, if she actually got to sleep, that is – _coffee_ … but it had taken her only one week or so to feel… to feel like something was off.

Somehow… somehow she’d started to feel like she wasn’t really _there_. Or… no, no that’s not it. She’d felt like a part of her has never been here before, doesn’t really know what do with herself here. It had been a strange sensation; like an itch in her mind or something, and it had made her irritable and after another week it had started to show.

Her relationship with her mother had never been an easy one but usually she’d been able to keep it civil but… that stupid _itch_ makes her snap at her mother, feel smothered by the attention she showers on her, all the questions… If she hears her mother ask her just _one more time_ if she’s okay, she’ll scream.

But the worst thing – really the _worst_ thing – is that she’s not allowed to contact anyone else of the Pegasus group. They’d been told about that only hours after they’d been beamed down and it had been enforced right that moment. They’d protested and when they’d asked what the hell that was about, they’d just told them that it was for “therapeutic reasons” or some stuff like that and no one had believed it.

She didn’t even get a chance to say good bye to all those people she’d come to trust; people who’d saved her life more times than she can probably even remember and people she’d spent nearly every waking with and most of her sleeping minutes as well for over a year.

People… people she misses so very much right now. She misses Miko’s bashful little giggle and Jorgensen’s way of saying much more with being silent than with words… she also misses Dhati’s insanity because it was so much like her own and Doc’s “A priest/rabbi/whatever walks into a bar…” jokes, even if they were the worst jokes she ever heard.

And there’s simply no way… no way how to describe how much she misses Evan. He’s there, in her head, every waking minute and often enough in her dreams as well and while she knows that he’s not allowed to contact her and that it’s part of his nature to adhere to rules, she keeps wishing he’d just throw them out the window and call her anyway.

Of course, she could also call him. But every time she sets to find out how to reach him a little voice in her head whispers “What happened in Pegasus stays in Pegasus.” and makes her doubt everything that happened between the two of them, and if he’d even _want_ her to call him. So here she is, sitting at the shore of Lake Michigan because this particular spot had turned into a kind of sanctuary for her when the need for being _alone_ had started to get too much, staring at the grey and troubled surface of the lake and feeling sorry for herself.

Well, until suddenly her cell phone rings, that is. She’s tempted to let it ring, being almost positive that it’s her mother again, trying to find out where she went. But in the end, a feeling of filial duty makes her draw the phone from her pocket and she’s about to grit her teeth and answer the call when her eyes fall on the display. The number is blocked and that makes her pause. And curious enough to answer it.

“Cadman, what is it?”

“Whoa, Laura, who ate your Cheerios this morning?” _Jesus fucking_ … holy _crap_. She nearly fell off the log she’s sitting on when she heard _that_ voice… _his_ voice. How the hell did he just _do_ that?

But… okay, poise, young lady. Be… casual. “Actually, no one. Not a cereal girl here. _You_ should know that.” He really should. It had been Doc and Dhati who couldn’t stop complaining about the lack of good breakfast cereals in Pegasus, not her. “Also, do I really want to know how you got this number?”

A huff at the other end. “Yeah, I’m happy to hear your voice, too.” Did he just mean that? Or was it just some stupid phrase? Aw, fuck, they aren’t even a minute into the conversation and she already feels her heart beating in her throat and she’s pretty sure she’s beet red in the face.

Still… he sounds so casual. She’d never admit it but deep down, she feels disappointment and the awful certainty that whatever happened in Pegasus _really_ stays in Pegasus. It’s starting to become so powerful that for a moment all she wants is end this conversation and never talk to him again. But dammit, she’s _Laura Cadman_ and she’s a Marine and she will sweat this conversation out like one. “Oh, is that why you called?” Wow, she even managed to give it a teasing edge that didn’t make it sound like she desperately wants him to say _yes_ to that.

“No.” Right. Of course. “Not… only, I mean.” And suddenly the casualness is joined by… awkwardness? Insecurity? Nervousness? What’s going on here, she wonders, but before she can ask, he continues, “I, uh… listen… I had surgery two weeks ago and they were trying to keep me imprisoned in the damn infirmary but an old friend here at the SGC managed to bail me out.”

Uh… what? Due to her growing confusion she can’t help but ask, “Evan… is there a point to this story?”

“Yes, and if you’d just let me finish, I could actually get to that.” Ouch. She wants to apologize but he doesn’t let her. “Anyway… he could bail me out and he… he offered me the use of his cabin.” Cabin? Use? _What_ is this all about?

She waits for him to continue, explain more but all she gets is silence. _Expectant_ silence, it dawns on her. _Huh_? “Uh, Evan… I don’t quite follow. He offered you to use his cabin and… and then what? Why are you calling _me_?”

Instead of an answer, more silence. Then, after a seeming eternity, very quietly, “Isn't it kind of obvious?” Obvious? _What_ is obv… oh. _Oh_. But he didn’t really… he hadn't wanted to… had he?

“I… are you actually… do you want me to _come along_?” Was that an irritated sigh at the other end?

“No, what gave you the idea?” He’s… could he please just _stop_ fucking around with her heart? She’s about to tell him that this stopped being funny _ages_ ago… “Of _course_ I wanted to ask you if you want to come along. Honestly, Laura…” Huh, why is _he_ suddenly pissed at _her_? _He_ ’s the one playing stupid games and leading her on… no, wait. He’s… he’s always like that when… could it be that he was really _nervous_ about calling her and asking her?

Nah, that’s bullshit. What reason could he have to be nervous about this? She, on the other hand… she has a _lot_ of reasons to be nervous, even if she’d never admit that she is. She clears her throat. “Did you… ask the others yet?”

Now there _definitely_ was a frustrated groan from the other side. _What_? What’s so frustrating about her wanting to know if he asked the rest of the team? They were a team and she just has a feeling that they _all_ feel like her – and, obviously, him as well – right now, probably even Miko and she fails to see – or tries to tell herself that she does – why he would be frustrated at her thinking that this was going to be a team thing.

However, there’s silence from the other end of the line again until she can hear him take a deep breath and then he says just as quietly as he did before, “No others, Laura. Just you and me… if you want to.” Oh. So… so _that_ ’s what was so frustrating about it. Just her and him… just the two of them. In a cabin in the woods God knows where… probably – _hopefully_ – far away from prying parents and well-meaning friends and a life that doesn’t feel quite right anymore…

She swallows and then the only thing she asks is, “For how long?”

He clears his throat… after he made a noise that sounded very much like a suppressed victorious “ _Yes_!” Then he’s all serious and almost nervous again and she just can’t help grinning a little when he says, “For as long as you… as _we_ want.”

Well. She takes a look around again; at Lake Michigan that still looks kind of alien to her, at the sky that looks… yeah, pissed off is exactly the right description, and at the distant silhouette of Chicago, a city she once adored but now feels crowded in and even harassed, like she doesn’t really belong anymore.

Then she thinks about how she lies awake in her own room at night, surrounded by things that seem to belong to a different person, and how she’d wanted so very much to feel his presence next to her again and hear him breathe beside her again… This is probably taking a chance that could very well end in heartbreak but she’ll never find out if she doesn’t try it. And she always regretted only things she _didn’t_ try. She takes a deep breath. “I’m in.”

There’s a very soft sigh from the end and then, “Thought so.” Yeah, right. He’d _tried_ to sound confident and all flyboy ego but the relief had been too big not to show through quite prominently. It makes her grin and feel a little giddy and want to fly to Colorado – because that’s where she thinks he is, judging by his level of annoyance as he’d spoken about the infirmary – _right now_ , just so she can hug him and kiss him and make him see that there had been _no_ reason for him to assume that she might say no.

However, she can’t resist teasing him, just a little. “Really? What made you so sure?”

“The proven irresistibility of my Air Force Academy cultured boyish charm, of course.” She can’t say what exactly it was that made her break out in laughter at that. Probably the utter earnestness with which he just said it… ah, doesn’t matter anyway.  It was _damn_ funny and she just can’t stop giggling and his indignant “Just wait until I get my hands on you, Lieutenant,” isn't exactly helpful in stopping it.

Okay… okay, deep breath, Laura. After all, he just gave you excellent groundwork. “And _I_ just _can’t_ wait for you to get your hands on me… Major.”

“Lieutenant Colonel, actually.” Oh… wow.

The words and the quiet tone surprise her enough that she sobers up again and has to clear her throat. “Hey, uh… congratulations. That’s… wow.”

“Yeah, took me only a year in hell to get there. Anyway… when can you get to Colorado Springs?” She’s tempted to say something about his comment on being promoted but decides that this is neither the place nor the time to talk about that so she sticks with his attempt at distracting her.

“Tomorrow, if you want me to.” Or right now, if you can find someone on the _Phoenix_ who’s willing to risk their career and beam me over to you, she thinks but keeps it to herself because something in her… still doesn’t quite believe he really wants her with him and reminds her not to appear _too_ eager.

“Tomorrow’s fine. Just tell me when you get the tick… oh, no, wait. I know someone from the 375th at Scott who’s supposed to ferry a C-130 to Peterson this week for reasons unknown…” He’s in full planning mode now and she doesn’t do much more than weighing in with one or two sentences now and then because damn, it’s good to hear his voice again and quite honestly he could be reading the phone book to her and she’d still listen with rapt attention…

No, not even the little voice telling her that they could have bugged their phones manages to spoil her pleasure now and for the first time in _weeks_ , maybe even _months_ she feel something like real happiness slowly engulfing her. And while she continues to listen to his voice and tease him and laugh with him, she looks out at the lake again and realizes that maybe… maybe Lake Michigan didn’t change after all. Maybe _she_ is the one that’s changed. And maybe that’s not as bad as she thought because obviously certain _other_ things _haven’t_ changed after all.

~*~

“How long will we have to wait  
Until better times will come again  
How much time will have to pass  
Until we’ll see each other again?”

Sportfreunde Stiller, “How long will we have to wait?”

 


	7. So Much Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, a cabin in the mountains is something very nice... let's see if Laura Cadman and Evan Lorne can appreciate it, too.

**Pandora’s Box: So Much Broken **

_„So viel kaputt_   
_So vieles nicht_   
_Jede der Scherben_   
_Spiegelt das Licht_   
  
_So viel kaputt_   
_Aber zwischen der Glut_   
_Zwischen Asche und Trümmern_   
_War irgendwas gut.“_

_Wir sind Helden, „Kaputt“_

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Not here, at least. Here she’s alone, here she has peace, here she has _Evan,_ and here she felt her demons creeping up her, one at a time… no, actually, the number of demons grew exponentially with each day. And since they’ve been here for a week… well, suffice to say she wonders how far exactly she has to run to finally get away from Pegasus.

And it could have been so great. Granted, even four weeks after having his knee repaired – or at least that’s what they told him – he’s still not as agile as he used to be, so not much hiking, running and other… physical activities. But he’s _here_ and he’s one of the very few people whose presence she doesn’t only tolerate but welcomes. One of the very few people who _know_ and who don’t make her feel uneasy when invading her private space… okay, okay, she _loves_ him in her private space.

Still… she can’t help not being able to fully concentrate on him and enjoy the quietness that surrounds them. Like yesterday, when they’d sat in front of the fireplace, October rain pounding against the roof and the windows. She’d curled up against him and he’d read to her from the _Wizard of Oz_ – complete with storyteller voice and everything – kissing the top of her head from time to time… yeah, yeah, like straight out of a stupid romance novel.

Only, instead of having her head full of light and fluffy nothings, she couldn’t stop wondering how the three people they’d left behind were doing and if they found Teyla yet. And she felt… she felt _guilty_ for holing up here and going off the grid. Not because they were going against rules – _someone_ in the rear echelon must have seen reason because they’d lifted the contact ban two days after he’d called her – but because other people couldn’t enjoy the same safety and comfort.

And because she couldn’t give other people of herself what she gives Evan so freely. She just can’t stop wondering why it’s so easy for her to let him engulf her in a hug or hold her close at night when she can’t even bear her mother to sit next to her on the couch.

Also, another feeling has started to gnaw at her. It’s just… this feels too good. She’s afraid that something might happen, that something’s _bound_ to happen. Because she doesn’t deserve this, for many reasons. That he’ll tire of her sooner or later because being together on Earth with Earth daily routine and no imminent danger and adrenalin rushes binding them together… just annoying habits and quirks and tics you can only stand for so long… “So… any special reason you’re trying to catch a cold out here?”

No! He wasn’t supposed to come out here! He was supposed to do his exercises and read or maybe do some sketching but not to be out here, on the landing stage leading into the little lake the cabin is located at. Actually, that’s the main reason why she came out here because he wouldn’t notice she did it to try to get away from her demons without letting him see them.

And dammit, he surprised her enough that she can’t even come up with a witty response and instead answers the first thing that comes into her head, “Go away.”

There are steps on the planks – how the hell didn’t she hear them the first time? – but they’re coming towards her, not moving away from her like she’d half-hoped they would. She forces herself not to turn around, not even when he says with a serious undertone, “Don’t demand something of me you could never do yourself, Laura.”

It’s not fair. Using her inability to let him sacrifice himself and to let him think he could deal with everything the universe threw at them alone against her; that’s playing dirty. She’s tempted to jump up and smack him a good one but in the end, she just draws her knees even further to her chest and hugs her legs a little tighter. It feels like this is the only way she can keep herself from doing stupid things. And maybe, if she doesn’t say anything, he’ll realize she’s not in the mood to talk…

No, obviously not because… because she feels something being put around her shoulders… a heavy blanket. And then she feels him sitting down beside her, a little sluggishly. After a small silence, he says, “You know I’d let you do a lot of things... mostly, because you don’t leave me a choice, anyway.” She’s about to protest when she remembers that she’s resolved not to talk at him; in fact, not to move an inch _at all_. “But I certainly won’t stand by and watch you trying to freeze to death.”

She wasn’t trying to freeze to death. She was just trying to… what _was_ she trying to do out here? Dammit, she doesn’t even know that. All she knows is that she needed to be away from Evan because she didn’t want him to see that she wasn’t enjoying this get-away as much as she thought she would.

“Laura…” he says, after another prolonged silence, “did you really think I’m stupid? Or blind?” She still hasn’t moved but it’s the stillness of a taut steel rope, ready to burst at any moment. And every word he says increases the tension a little more.

He sighs. “Laura… whatever it is… tell me about it. Just… _talk to me_.”

At that, she can’t help snorting. “Like you’d want to hear that.” _Fuck_. It wasn’t supposed to come out like _that_ … all snooty and bitchy and passive-aggressive. Okay, actually, it wasn’t supposed to come out at all.

Usually something like that is a certain ticket to a fight lasting at least two hours – they’d been there several times in Pegasus and it had never been pretty, even if they’d always managed to make up one way or the other – but today, he surprises her. The only thing he says is a slightly challenging, “Try me.”

It starts to dawn on her that he came to stay, that he _won’t_ get up and leave her alone if she only manages to be silent long enough. That he won’t even get up if she bitches some more at him. Or if she shouts at him. But maybe if she reassures him? “It’s okay, Evan. Just get back in. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Now _he_ snorts. “Laura… you’ve been sitting out here for at least an hour. Right here, without moving. You didn’t even notice me entering the planks. And you won’t look at me. You honestly want to make me believe you’re _okay_?” A huff, now. “No, I certainly will _not_ get back in because you sure as hell won’t follow me.”

She shakes her head. That’s nonsense. She’d follow him anywhere, literally. “I’m _fine_. Or I will be.” Damn, that was a mistake.

And he saw that, too. Of course he did. Like he said, he’s neither stupid nor blind and he never hesitated to use a weakness in someone else to his advantage. “Really? When?”

She doesn’t like that tone; a little disbelieving, as if he doubts her ability to cope with difficulties of any kind. And because _that_ kind of tone always pisses her off, she does look at him now, angry enough that her turning around made the blanket fall off her shoulders. “When I fit in again. When people stop staring at that scar like I’m some kind of freak. When my mother stops asking me if I’m okay. When… when…” What… no! There weren’t supposed to be tears. There were supposed to be justified anger and self-assuredness and… and…

“Laura…” He reaches out to touch her but almost out of reflex she deflects his hand with an angry gesture and then wipes a hand over her faces, just as angrily.

“No! Go away! I’ll manage. I just need some time.” She shakes her head again, avoiding his gaze so she doesn’t have to see the hurt at her refusal… and so she hasn’t to actually watch him go, probably disappointed and already realizing that he made a mistake in asking her to come here with him, in expecting that they could actually have something real, something permanent.

But he doesn’t go away… at least not yet. “I know you can manage whatever it is, all on your own. But you don’t _have_ to. Just let me…”

Furiously, she shakes her head again. “You don’t want to do that. You don’t want to listen to me. _I_ don’t want to listen to myself.” Heavy sobs are shaking her body now and with every attempt at stopping that, it only gets worse. It’s like all her demons finally caught up with her and are wreaking havoc on her heart and mind.

It makes her defenseless and weak and that’s why she doesn’t even make an attempt at fighting him when she feels his arms around her and his hands stroking over her hair that’s still much shorter than it used to be and his lips kissing her temples and her forehead. She keeps sobbing into his shoulder and his neck and it’s loud enough that she almost doesn’t hear him murmur, “Tell me about it, Laura. Tell me about fitting in and the scar and your mother. I’ll listen.”

And because that somehow destroys the last safeguards around the swirl of confusion, anger and hurt in her mind, she starts telling him about feeling like an alien on her home planet and about how she used to be so proud of that scar because it told everyone that she could survive practically _everything_ but now just kept earning pitying or frightened stares and about how guilty she feels for being irritated by just about everything her mother does or says…

He keeps kissing and stroking her, rocking her and telling her he knows how she feels and that the people staring at her are idiots and that _he_ thinks she’s beautiful. When she tells him how much she misses the team, even though she’d been able to catch up with all of them he tells her he does, too and that it’s okay and that if she wants they can go visit them or maybe invite them.

She even goes as far as telling him about how much she keeps thinking about Sheppard and Ronon and Keller and keeps wondering how they are and that she just can’t forget about Pegasus and she can’t stop wondering if they could have made a difference there if they’d stayed. He tells her he can’t forget about Pegasus, either but that they made the right decision and that Sheppard, Ronon and Keller knew what they signed up for. He also tells her that he’d stayed with her, no matter how she had decided.

It makes her protest and somehow it slips from her, “You shouldn’t be with me, Evan. It won’t work. You’ll only get hurt.” And it’s true, isn't it? Didn’t she already hurt him today, with refusing his touch?

Again, she wants to avoid his gaze, but he takes her face into his hands. “Laura, look at me.” She struggles to get away from him but he refuses to let her go, just keeps holding her face, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “No, Laura, look at me. The first word that came out of my mouth when I woke up from surgery was your name.”

What… she stops struggling. He takes away his hands but puts her hair behind her ear and rests his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging her collarbones with his thumbs. It’s the first time she actually looks him in the eyes and she sees that they’re glistening with wetness and that they’re full of sincerity and worry and warmth. And insecurity. “I never… I never told you but… you saved me, back in Pegasus. The one thing… that made me survive it all… was you.”

When she still doesn’t answer – because she feels like telling him all that and then hearing his confession sucked all the words out of her – he takes a deep breath. “I love you, Laura.”

It hits her full in the face and the impact is hard enough that after the words have apparently been sucked out of her, now her breath deserts her as well. For a few moments, she feels like the world is spinning and she can’t even start to realize what the thing he just said means for her. All she’s able to think of is that she knows that she should answer but in the end instead of just opening her mouth and saying it, she moves to hug him, startling herself – and him as well, probably – with the fierceness with which she does it.

At first it takes him a moment to react but then she feels his arms close around her and his lips kiss her forehead again. And then… something strange happens. She feels him tremble and because she’s leaning with her head against his chest, she feels _something_ rumble, but she only realizes that he’s quietly _laughing_ when he says a little breathlessly, “I’ll take that as a ‘Love you, too.’”

For a moment, she’s _this_ close to telling him she doesn’t deserve him but he seems to have developed a sixth sense for that kind of thing because he forestalls any attempts at speaking from her by bending down and kissing her. It feels so wonderful, like every time he does that because he has the unique gift to take away all her pain and her doubts just by putting his mouth to hers, at least for the moment.

When he breaks the kiss, she feels a chill going right through her, despite the blanket that somehow made it back to her shoulders… actually, around _both_ their shoulders. Apparently, he doesn’t intend to let her go. While the realization quickly chases the chill inside of her away with a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading out from her heart, she still can’t help saying, “It’s not over yet, Evan.”

That had been kind of hard; admitting to him and most of all to herself that this whole breakdown wasn’t the end of something, rather it probably was just the _beginning_ of the psychological fallout after Pegasus. But the only thing he says is, “I know,” like that answers everything.

Then he hugs her closer to him and adds, “Next time you feel the need to crash and burn, though, you might want to do it at some place warmer. I’d listen to you anywhere but a fireplace definitely beats ice cold planks.”

Despite still being seriously rattled she can’t help laughing at that and quipping, “Wuss.”

“I’ll give you wuss,” he growls but she’s faster, jumping up and running a few steps, suddenly feeling laughter bubbling up. “Hey, mind the guy with the surgery!” What… oooh, of course. Damn, she keeps forgetting that it’ll take him a while to become as fast as he used to be, even though there’s brand new alien technology in his knee now – probably testimony of the SGC’s guilty conscience.

She walks back and leans down to him. “Aw, I’m sorry.”

For a moment, it looks like he’ll drag her down to him but then he seems to have remembered that mid-October isn't quite the nicest time for a dip in a Rocky Mountains lake and just gives her a slightly exaggerated resigned sigh. “As long as it makes you laugh…”

Now it’s her who gives him a peck on his forehead. “You’re such a sweetie. A wussy sweetie, but a sweetie.” Oh, oh damn, he obviously rethought the whole ‘too cold for a little swim’ thing because he just lunged at her and she could get away just in time. Trying not to grin – well, too much – she tries again, “Okay, okay… you’re a bad ass bastard who eats nails for breakfast. Happy?”

“Barbed wire.” Huh? She raises her eyebrows. “I eat barbed wire for breakfast, not nails.” Yeah, uh-huh, as if.

She’s about to tell him that _she_ ’s the Marine here – before he probably goes on with “And I love the smell of napalm in the morning.” or something – but okay, it _is_ starting to get cold… no, just a little chilly. Ah, anyway, “Come on, Lieutenant Colonel Chuck Norris, let’s get you back to the cabin,” she says and sticks out her hand. He hesitates a moment – what, flyboy ego getting in the way? – but then takes it and she hauls him up.

“More like getting _you_ back in there.” She sticks out her tongue and he puts an arm around her shoulders and hugs her to him, shortly burying his nose in her hair. It tickles a bit and even though they both know that the road they entered is a very rocky one, she can’t help giggling and giving in to his attempts at cheering her up.

Now that they broke out of their cage, the demons can wait just another day before they start to tackle them. There’s a fireplace waiting and another chapter of the _Wizard of Oz_ ; that’s a much more pleasant prospect anyway. And maybe tonight she can finally concentrate on just those things and on Evan. Yeah… that would be nice.

~*~

 “So much broken  
So much isn’t  
Every shard  
Reflects the light

So much broken  
But between the embers  
Between ashes and ruins  
Something was well.”

Wir sind Helden, “Broken"

 


	8. Can't Forget the War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later, and Laura Cadman and Evan Lorne have to learn that C4 lasts longer than only a few weeks.

**Pandora’s Box: Can’t Forget the War **

_„Woran hält sich ein Krieger_   
_Der den Krieg nicht vergisst_   
_Woran glauben Besiegte_   
_Die man niemals vermisst.“_

_Rosenstolz, „Woran hält sich die Liebe“_

“You’re kidding, Laura. Come on, you _have_ to be kidding me.” She grins, as she tries to walk up the stairs to the apartment she shares with Evan, take out the keys and balance the phone between her shoulder and her ear at the same time.

“No, seriously, I’m telling you. I was practically shoving my badge in his face and he _still_ kept telling me he wants to wait for some _real_ agents. Honestly…” Dhati laughs but hey, this really isn't funny. She had been just _this_ close to telling the guy she knows at least five ways of killing someone and making it look like an accident and asking him if he wanted her to demonstrate it.

But apparently, Dhati doesn’t agree about this not being funny… at least she finally fumbled her keys out of her pocket and reached the apartment door. “So you’re really busy, aren’t you?”

She snorts. “Damn well I am. We’re practically swamped with cases. You honestly have no idea what’s considered terrorism in this country.” It’s been six months since she graduated from Quantico and finally moved in permanently with Evan but at times it feels like she’s actually living in her office.

Yeah, it’s been an eventful year, to say the least. Jorgenson’s suicide attempt, Doc’s divorce, Miko going off the grid for three months before resurfacing as a local employee at Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, acting as if nothing happened… and she becoming an FBI agent.

She’d never thought she’d go inactive before doing her full 20 but after being back from Pegasus, something just hadn't felt right about going about her usual duties as a Marine anymore and so she’d decided for the painful step of leaving active duty and going into the IRR, exchanging a military career for a career in law enforcement.

“But you’ll have just a little bit of time for an old friend flying in all the way from Pakistan, right?” Snorting again, she unlocks the door to their apartment.

“Of course.” Stepping in, she puts the keys in their usual place and flicks on the light, saying, “What do you think I am, some kind of…” She never finishes that sentence, though, because of the sight that suddenly presents itself to her. After swallowing to try and make the awful feeling of dread starting to pool in her stomach go away, she continues, “Dhati… I’m sorry but… I think we’ll have to put a rain check on this conversation. I’ll… I’ll call you back as soon as I can.” With that, she closes her phone, only marginally registering Dhati’s suddenly worried enquiries and urgings to keep to that promise of calling her back.

Slowly, she puts the phone on the side table to her right and takes one or two steps into the living room, trying to comprehend what’s happening here. There’s Evan, sitting at the dining table, legs stretched out, chin propped up on his hand and staring at a bottle of vodka, as she now recognizes after a few more steps towards him.

She throws the bottle a furtive glance and immediately feels ashamed for it. Just because Evan had had his share of swigs from the bottle of the impossible moonshine they brewed in Sheppard’s group it doesn’t mean he’d _always_ resort to alcohol in times of crisis. And not to forget, _she_ ’d gotten to know that bottle fairly well a number of times as well. But yeah, she _is_ relieved to see that it’s apparently not even been opened yet.

However, the whole thing… scares her enough. He must have been sitting here for quite a while already, in the dark, just he and that bottle. _Something_ must have happened, and it sure as hell wasn’t something _good_.

Oh God, she thinks, please don’t let it be any more bad news about the team. Please, _please_ let be everyone okay. She feels panic rise from her heart and actually needs a moment or two to still her breathing and forestall any possible panic attacks.

A year ago, shortly after starting to see a therapist, she’d had the first and to date only panic attack in her life and she stills feels a bit ashamed of it, even though everyone told her it wasn’t uncommon in PTSD patients to have those. So she’s extra careful about never letting it happen again, most of all not when someone _else_ is the one having a problem.

She waits another moment but it looks as if Evan hasn’t even realized yet that he isn't alone anymore so she takes the last few steps towards the table and carefully sits down in the chair next to him. He still doesn’t react and because she’s really out of ideas how to approach him and because she can’t stop being scared about this whole thing, she clears her throat and tries to ask as casually as possible, “Is that the bottle of vodka you got from that Russian Colonel who visited your unit a couple of months ago?”

A moment of silence, then a slow nod and a single drawn out, “Yep.”

Okay… okay, at least he’s talking to her. That’s good, right? Now… she just has to _keep_ him talking, “But you haven’t opened it yet?”

She half hopes that he turns to her, gives her the raised eyebrow and answers something like, “Wow, the FBI really did train you well, Agent Scully.” But all he does is shake his head just as slowly as he nodded and say, “Nope.”

Right. This is starting to get really weird… and _really_ scary. “And were you planning to?”

Now a shrug. “Maybe.”

Okay, note to self: no more yes/no questions if she wants to get anywhere with this. “Evan, what the _hell_ is going on here?”

Damn. It wasn’t supposed to sound so bitchy and impatient but she does feel her temper flare, mostly because she has no idea how to handle this even though she should have, considering that she’s probably the person who used to know him best in Pegasus and even after. And that _he_ always seems to know what’s going on with _her_. But instead of giving her a snappy comment in that direction, he shifts in his chair and now she can see an envelope lying on the table which he takes up and hands over to her, still not looking at her.

A little wary, she takes it from his hand and pulls the piece of paper inside of it out. She unfolds it and reads it over, immediately recognizing the important keywords and finally starting to get an inkling what this might be about… and what it triggered some things she always thought he had a lot less problems handling than she had. She swallows. “Afghanistan, huh?”

He nods again, just as slow as before. “Yep, it’s back to the dirt.” He _tries_ to sound all casual, if a bit cynical but she can hear that he’s anything but. In fact, it sounds like he’s suffering beneath the calm and almost bored façade.

It pains her to see him like this and she wants to reach out to him, like he did to her a year ago on that landing stage. But she has a feeling that this isn't the way to solve this, at least not yet. So, okay, probably one more yes/no question. “And… you don’t want to go there?”

He laughs a short humorless laugh and she doesn’t like to hear it. Whenever he’s like that, he’s desperately trying to hide that something really isn't okay with him. “Oh, _wanting_ to go is not the problem. _Being able to_ is.”

What… oh. She’d been _right_. And she can’t believe that _now_ Pegasus is catching up with him, after all this time. Which is why she can’t help asking, “Are… Evan, what are you trying to tell me?”

“You know, I honestly want to go there, do my bit, et cetera…” he begins with that casual, kind of bored tone that tried to hide the turmoil that must be going on inside of him, but then his voice breaks and he’s _finally_ looking at her when he continues, sounding something between disbelieving and desperate, “but I just… I _can’t_.”

Well, that admission just made it kind of impossible to overlook the connection between Pegasus and his current condition. And now that he looked at her again, she saw just how deeply this is troubling and hurting him. It dawns on her that it must have surprised him as much as it surprised her because _he_ didn’t see it coming either. She takes a deep breath, knowing that what she’s about to say now could probably end in a lot of tears. “Evan, you do know that you don’t _have_ to do it, right?”

She’s prepared for dark looks from him, for being accused of never having learned anything about him, of not having _cared_ to really get to know him but what she gets are nervous little gestures like running a hand through his hair and pinching the bridge of his nose and several attempts at speaking again before he manages, “I know. Of course I do. I almost even… but I can’t do that _either_.”

God, he’s… he looks so miserable and she _thinks_ she’s starting to see the issue here. On the one hand, the year in Pegasus made him unable to go on deployment again but on the other hand, he _wants_ to and he does _not_ want to quit and so he found himself in a terrible Catch-22, unable to take either of his options because _both_ are bound to give him great pain.

She wants to say something – _anything_ – but he beats her to it. “I love my job, Laura. I love flying those big birds and commanding my crew and I felt so _good_ about that; that I was still able to do that, after everything.” Unlike her but when she’d decided to leave active duty he’d been the first to support her decision unconditionally, and she’ll always love him just for that alone.

And she owes it to him to support him in _his_ decisions but it also pains her to see him suffering and the thought of Evan over in Afghanistan, exhausting himself and driving himself mad with trying to do his job, protecting his crew and not going insane with everything from Pegasus coming back to him at the same time, it makes her feel his pain as if it were her own. Most of all… most of all he’d be alone there, the only one having to deal with all the crap from Pegasus in his head, with no one there he could talk or who can understand him like she does… wait.

A thought comes to her; a call she’d had two days ago, from her first CO, Colonel Eva Dimitrios. After coming back from Pegasus, Colonel Dimitrios had surprised her with being among those calling her and they’d kept up a lose sort of friendship, with the Colonel telling her about news from the Corps and she telling the Colonel about news from her adventures in Law Enforcement Land.

And two days ago, the Colonel had told her about a new strategy in Afghanistan that involved foot patrols accompanied by all-female teams that were supposed to do the things male Marines couldn’t do – talk to the women and children, distribute humanitarian aid directly to the women, that kind of thing. They called those teams Female Engagement Teams and it had caught her attention. Apparently enough that the Colonel had hinted at being in the position to make it possible for her to go active again and join one of those teams… if she wanted to.

Biting her lip, she looks at Evan again, knowing that she’s about to do something that could end with probably even worse consequences than lots of tears. But she just can’t bear seeing Evan unhappy and she’d do _everything_ to see him freed of whatever makes him miserable. Even if it may lead to having to do something she isn't sure is a good idea. She takes a deep breath again. “Evan… way I see it… there are exactly two choices. Either, you quit… or I go active again.” There. It’s out. She’d _really_ do anything for him… even join up again, although a year ago she’d felt so uncomfortable on active duty that she’d taken a painful leave from the Corps.

“No.” Right. That had to be expected, seeing as Evan had always had a tendency to be overprotective where she was concerned.

But damn it, just for once, it’s _her_ turn to be overprotective. “Look, Evan…”

“I said _no_ ,” he repeats and glares at her, probably ready to end this conversation at any moment.

She was never one to be intimidated easily, though, most of all not when it was about someone she loved. She holds up a hand to forestall any further comments. “Wait, wait, wait! Hear me out.”

However, he obviously doesn’t intend to because he gets up forcefully enough that his chair hits the table and makes the bottle of vodka fall over. He doesn’t look at her, walks away from her and leans heavily on the backrest of the couch, his back to her. She can see how tensed his entire body is and it occurs to her that he just jumped up because he’s rattled enough that he might do something very stupid – like yell at her, for example – and it had been the only way for him to keep himself from doing that.

Very carefully, she stands up herself. “Evan…” No response apart from straightening up and tightly crossing his arms in front of his chest, but she just refuses to leave him alone, here as much as in Afghanistan. “Evan, you once said that the one thing that saved you back in Pegasus was me. I can do that again.”

Another prolonged silence, then he turns around again, looking kind of… helpless. “But… but you don’t _have_ to.”

It sounded a bit uncomprehending. Holy… did he _honestly_ think she didn’t care enough about him that she were able to see him like that and do nothing about it? That she wouldn’t put all her private misgivings behind herself and do what was necessary to make sure he was alright, and gladly at that? She shakes her head. “Maybe not… but I _want_ to.”

Part of the tension has eased away again but it left behind a troubled man, slowly starting to be unable to control all the things trying to overwhelm him. She realizes that no matter if he wants her to touch him or not, he’s starting to _need_ her close to him, so she carefully inches closer to him, step by step.

It seems, though, that he doesn’t even notice her coming closer because he runs his hand through his hair again and is busy with trying to appear unfazed, like his little outburst was just a minor irritation. “Look, I just… I just don’t want you to regret doing this for me.”

As if she ever could. Wondering how he can still doubt her like that, after everything they’ve been through, she closes the last bit of distance between them and reaches out to trail her fingertips down the side of his face. He closes his eyes, like he’s trying very hard to keep everything inside of him… but it never worked for her so she doubts it will for him.

Very softly she tells him something she should have told him ages ago, “I never regretted doing something for you or being with you, Evan. No matter where I was or what I did.”

For a moment, there’s silence and stillness, but then he leans forward, puts his forehead against hers and takes her face into his hands. His eyes are closed and he tries to say something but his lips are moving without making a sound and finally giving in to her urge to let him feel that he’s not alone – instead of only saying it, because words always sound so hollow to her in situations like that – she moves to embrace him.

Thankfully her timing had been stellar just for once because he hugs her back fiercely and buries his face in her hair. In a way, she’s glad about it, even if Evan being emotional like that isn't exactly a standard situation. But at least it means that he gave up bottling up everything inside of him. And at least finally she can give something back for all the times he’d been there for her when she needed someone to simply hold her.

She just hopes that standing here and not letting go of him, burying her hand in his hair and putting kisses on his temples is enough to help him cope with what Pegasus left him with, or at least show him that no matter how he decides, she’ll be there for him.

In the end, she doesn’t know how long they’re standing there like that – could have been two minutes but could also have been two hours – when he slowly loosens his hold and moves so he can look at her again. She can feel him trying to pull away and because she isn't fast enough he managed to get out of her embrace. Still looking a little out of sorts, he runs a hand through his hair and looks anywhere… but her. “Damn, that was… I’m sorry, Laura. I really shouldn’t have… I’m sorry for being a wuss.”

At that, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or to feel sorry for him. Which is why, in the end, she whacks him on the arm and glares at him. “Hey, what the hell was _that_ for?” he says, rubbing his arm and fixing her with a look that’s part hurt and part annoyed.

 _Now_ she’d like to laugh but that would totally destroy the educational effect, so she continues to glare at him and replies, “For being an idiot. Did you really think _I_ wouldn’t be able to judge a breakdown the right way? Honestly, Evan, I’m not the Wicked Witch of the West.”

He rubs the back of his neck, still looking embarrassed – now hopefully for judging her wrong – and ends up saying, “Of course not. Although, sometimes…” Wait, is that the hint of a crooked grin there? He didn’t just… “But I guess _I_ am the cowardly Lion.”

Damn. She’d love to hit him on the arm again, for suggesting something as stupid as that, or maybe call him her Scarecrow, just to get back at him. But… he’s been through enough today and he’d just tell her that she _is_ the Wicked Witch, after all, so she cups his cheek and tells him the truth, “No, you’re not. If anything, you’ve always been the Tin Man.” And to forestall any protests or deliberately wrong assumptions, she grins a little and adds, “And guess who Dorothy always loved best.”

Come on, she thinks, don’t pretend you didn’t get what I’m trying to tell you here… “In case you’re suggesting that _you_ are Dorothy here… I certainly hope it was the Tin Man.” Okay… okay, that’s close enough.

Grinning, she compliments him with “Good guess,” and rewards him with a kiss. He responds immediately and that tells her that even though this is far from over, she probably did something right today.

This assumption is fed by the grin he has on his face when he breaks the kiss. She can still see traces of turmoil in his eyes but something tells her that this grin isn't just there to plaster up the cracks but a sign of genuine relief. “So,” he says, “how are you gonna break your boss’s heart?” Huh? What the… “I mean, how are you gonna tell him he’ll have to do without you for God knows how long. It would sure break _my_ heart.”

Oh. That… huh. He tried to sound casual but that’s probably as much of a confirmation of her suspicions as she’ll get. And it still surprises her, even after he told her that he loved her, and after he put up with over five months of him being in Ohio and her being at the other side of the country, in Virginia and after he stuck with her through therapy. Yes… yes, it still surprises her that it would break his heart if he couldn’t be with her. Well… looks like he isn't the only one who still has to learn a lot about his significant other.

However, they had enough distress for today, so she decides not to dwell on that any longer and simply says, with a smirk, “Be thankful, then, that I care more about your heart than about that of my boss.”

He gives her a kiss on the forehead and answers with his voice a little hoarse “Believe me, I am.”

Damn, he always manages to wind her up enough that her voice gets caught in her throat, and if it’s only for a moment. Trying not to make him see how easy that is for him, she clears her throat and moves to climb over the couch’s backrest – something he doesn’t like her doing and that she loves to use to tease him with – and says, “Okay, so… I’m a little torn about the dramatic approach and the casual one… any ideas?”

Making a point, he takes the long way around and lets himself fall down beside her. “Mh… since you always were a bit of a drama queen…” Okay, she knows he’s baiting her but she just can’t help whacking him on the arm again but this time he starts an immediate counterattack and starts to tickle her.

While they’re fooling around on the couch, the unbidden feeling of dread regarding the thought of being a full-time Marine again hits her but… she’ll be damned if she lets that ruin her day now, after all the other things couldn’t and resolutely, she shoves that thought in the dark corner where it belongs. Plenty of time to take care of it later… _Now_ she has to put a Zoomie in his place. _That_ always takes precedence over _everything_ and thank God for that and the incorrigible Zoomie she ended up with.

 ~*~

“What does a warrior hold on to  
Who can’t forget the war  
What do the defeated believe in  
Who aren’t missed.”

 Rosenstolz, “What Does Love Hold On To”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that the Female Engagment Teams were implemented in Afghanistan in 2010 (this takes place in 2009, if I'm correct) but bear with me and the artistic licence I took for the sake of the plot. Please?


End file.
